The New York Times headline hit its mark: “Painting Found in a Maine Attic Sells for $1.4 Million.” Thoroughly hooked by that one line, I eagerly read about Portrait of a Girl, believed to have been painted by Rembrandt, which could be worth as much as $15 million. Best of all, this 17-century portrait hadn’t been hanging on the wall or over the fireplace; an appraiser found it in a stack of other paintings in a farmhouse attic.
This is the stuff of imagination – of Indiana Jones and Nancy Drew. Its appeal runs deep and for far more than the obvious windfall of a castoff suddenly worth millions. Hidden treasure reminds us of our longing to discover that rare gem buried deep within our own lives.
As writers and other creatives, we can embrace this quest into two distinct but interconnected directions. One delves into storytelling – the other takes us deeper into ourselves.
The Lost Is Found – a Tale of Discovery
The storytelling path leads to narratives as diverse as Dashiell Hammett’s classic detective novel The Maltese Falconand Donna Tartt’s coming-of-age epic The Goldfinch. These stories employ an “objective correlative” (a term coined, or at least used, by T.S. Eliot). The best explanation I ever heard for this literary term is “an object that stands for more than just itself.”
I used the same device in my first novel, The Secrets of Ohnita Harbor, in which a small medieval cross – first disregarded as a piece of kitsch on the Christmas decoration table at a community rummage sale – turns out to be a 14th century artifact linked to Saint Catherine of Siena.
What works in fiction also adds depth to memoir, essay, and other stories of our lives. It may be a lost button from a favorite coat, an old watch that belonged to a beloved aunt, a ring whose value is far more sentimental than monetary. Although these lost treasures won’t merit the same headlines as a forgotten Rembrandt, the search to find them is no less a quest to find the object and uncover meaning.
Many years ago, I wrote an essay for Huff Post titled, “What a Lost Earring Taught Me About Life – And Hope.” I described sitting in a coffeeshop with a friend and suddenly discovering an empty earlobe instead of a gold hoop – half of a pair given to me by my late father. As I wrote, “It didn’t take much imagination to connect my retraced footsteps through that coffeeshop to my father who died seven years ago this month. On that short journey from my table to the door, I was reminded that the occasional loss is the byproduct of having been in the game.”
We all have these stories to explore and tell, about objects that speak greater truths than merely “I misplaced my wallet.”
- What lost treasure do you miss or mourn long after it’s gone?
- What rediscovered “gem” (literal or figurative) has brought you true joy?
- What meaning did you discover in the quest – whether successful or not?
The Treasure Hunt Within
Hope, faith, luck, courage… Despair, disbelief, abandonment, discouragement… These are the emotional steppingstones along any path toward lost treasure. On my long-ago search for my lost earring, I scoured under the table, in the collar of my shirt, across the floor… With each futile attempt, the sense of loss deepened. The discovery was made all the sweeter because I took one more step, risking disappointment and looking foolish.
Here we find the treasure hunter archetype – risk-taking, swashbuckling, bravado-spewing – who goes boldly into the darkest forests, plunges into the deepest canyons, climbs the highest mountains, and undergoes every other hyperbolic and clichéd challenge.
A fascinating Psychology Today article about real-life treasure hunters examined their motivations, including the feeling of just having to do it. The author goes on to quote philosopher Soren Kierkegaard who extolled “the benefits of striving because the journey might offer more to us spiritually than arriving at our destination.”
Although a stray button or a misplaced earring doesn’t evoke that much drama, the journey to find any lost item requires emotional and psychological investment. Suddenly, we see that we really are more resilient and determined than we might have thought otherwise.
Such realizations add tone and texture to our stories that relate far more than a simple search. In seeking and finding what we’ve lost we regain some missing part of ourselves.
Then the real discovery begins.
- What did you learn about yourself in the search for what was lost?
- How did you reconcile an unsolved loss – the treasure that was never found – and what emotional lessons did you learn?
- What are you doing with your recovered treasure – the physical object and the emotional lessons?
Hidden treasures abound! Although we may never find rare art or a priceless jewel, we are surrounded by a host of things waiting to be rediscovered. And each has something to teach us about life and ourselves.
Let’s Continue the Conversation:
When and where have you searched for your own lost treasure? When you retell the story of that quest, what feelings are evoked? What does the treasure hunter’s quest teach you about yourself?
